Arnie Jenks and the House of Strangers Read Online Free PDF Page A

pulled out his iPod and jamming in his earphones he pressed play.
    Everyone remained as before but stared blinking unbelievingly at the black object he was clutching.
    â€˜No – no – no!’ Arnie moaned, as a blast of rock music jangled his senses. ‘This is not happening!’ and contorting his face painfully tight, he wished hard.
    He counted to ten before he dared look towards the table. Seven pairs of eyes were still staring across at him.
    Shoving his iPod back into his pocket, he started to jabber.
    â€˜You…don’t…don’t…really…mean…this. Do you?’
    Mr Dawson didn’t speak but moved across to join Emily who had risen from her chair and now stood the closest to Arnie.
    â€˜These props and things…they can’t be real,’ Arnie said quietly, his mind spinning. Then he saw something and smirked. ‘This’ll prove it!’
    He dashed over reaching a rectangular wooden board attached to the wall ahead of him. On the front were pinned three small boxes; two shiny brass bells gleamed on the top one, a circular funnel stood out from the middle box and at the bottom, an earpiece on a loose cord hung from a hook.
    â€˜I bet it’ll just lift off,’ Arnie pronounced. ‘Like this.’ He teased the machine by pulling and wiggling his fingers in and behind searching for some leverage. But it was firmly screwed on and wouldn’t budge.
    â€˜Would you kindly take care, that equipment has only recently been installed and cost a great deal of money,’ Mr Dawson said, removing his glasses and waving an advisory finger. ‘It’s come all the way from America you know – very sensitive – I don’t think you should touch it. If you wish to communicate with your father,
please
allow me to call the operator for you.’
    â€˜I tried the phone upstairs but it didn’t work so I doubt I’ll have much luck contacting anybody on this antique,’ Arnie said, picking up the earpiece and rattling the cradle. Mr Dawson looked anxiously at him.
    â€˜See? Dead as a dodo. It’s just pretend – as I thought!’ he called back to them.
    A tiny high-pitched voice seeped into the air. Arnie looked down and realised he was still holding the receiver. Nervously he raised it up to listen as simultaneously he moved his head towards the hole in the middle, directly in front of him.
    â€˜Hello?’ he said, struggling to comprehend.
    After a brief pause his answer came. ‘Caller, are you there?’ The woman at the other end of the conversation sounded impatient.
    Arnie shook his head with indecision.
    â€˜What number do you require?’ the clipped voice crackled again.
    Arnie stared into the telephone dumbstruck.
    â€˜If you do not wish to place a call then please replace the receiver,’ the voice chimed.
    â€˜I would like to call my Aunt Lavinia Bailey,’ he said, without thinking twice about the thought that had just entered his head.
    â€˜Do you have a number?’
    Arnie grimaced. ‘Um…ah…’ he said, racking his brains.
    â€˜I do need the number caller.’ The voice was very insistent.
    â€˜She never has her mobile on,’ he struggled, ‘so it’ll have to be…’
    â€˜A mobile number? What is that?’
    â€˜Um…doesn’t matter,’ he mumbled, as a globule of perspiration dribbled down his nose.
    The operator continued regardless. ‘I need the name of the exchange and the local number.’
    â€˜Well,’ he said slightly flummoxed, ‘I think it starts 03…’
    Emily interrupted softly. ‘Excuse me; I think she might be asking for the name of the town where your auntie lives.’
    â€˜Name of the town?’ he repeated.
    â€˜We are
Martlesham
12 and so it is wherever she is,’ said Emily.
    â€˜Oh. I see – yes – well…’
    â€˜Caller, if you do not need this line then